Collision Course
by miXiZ
Summary: Outsider POV on our boys... add some snow and you're all set. Early seasons (2-3). Two parter
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Outsider POV - I love reading how others perceive meeting the boys. This is my attempt at it. Set somewhere between "The Usual Suspects" and "Jus In Bello". Special thanks to NerdAngel and Biensche, and my beta Lee.**

 *****sn*****

OC POV

The weather looked dreadful when I crossed the hospital parking lot. It had been snowing all afternoon and I sighed when my pick-up came into view. About three inches of snow covered the car and it took me a good ten minutes to clear it all off. On the upside, the exercise had warmed me up.

I slid in the driver's seat and started the car, carefully steering it onto the snow covered street. The plow had come through already but since it had kept on snowing the roads were back to white. Luckily I didn't have far to go. Just a few miles to cross over to the next town, Sioux Falls.

The street was deserted and somehow it made me concentrate harder to stay on the fairly straight stretch of road. I switched on my wipers to keep the snow from packing on the windshield. My thoughts drifted to the rather uneventful shift at the small ER. These weather conditions either made it extremely busy or extremely boring. Everybody must have stayed inside today, because all that came in was a broken arm courtesy of some slippery stairs.

There was still absolutely no traffic on the road and I smiled, knowing I would make it back home before darkness would fall, which would just add to the difficult conditions. I was looking forward to a cup of steaming coffee in front of my fireplace and inadvertendly sped up ever so slightly.

Half way between towns I made out oncoming traffic. The headlights of what looked like a black car shone through the ever falling flakes. The driver was keeping a moderate speed, plowing the black beast, a classic, by the looks of it, through the wintery landscape. I would get a better view when I passed the car in a few moments.

Suddenly, my eyes grew wide. Out of nothing there was a second pair of headlights, right on the classic's tail end. I could have sworn there was only one car approaching me.

"Idiot," I muttered in the direction of the second driver. He or she must have gone at a breakneck speed to catch up with the black car. I started shaking my head in disbelief but froze when I saw the greenish car bumping right into the rear of the classic. It hit slightly off center, sending the black car, an Impala as I recognized now, into a spin and right in my path.

Immediately I slammed my foot on the brake, but the desired effect was hardly noticeable. The tires of my pick-up locked up, finding no traction on the snow covered asphalt. Almost in slow-motion I saw the black car with its two passengers spiraling at me and I braced myself for the impact. When it came it was a lot stronger than I expected. My airbag deployed and then there was nothing.

The next thing I was aware of was a throbbing in my head. I opened my eyes and found I was still sitting in my car. The Impala had sort of bounced back after the impact and I realized I must have hit the driver's side of the spinning vehicle. The left side of the classic was dented badly. I squinted, but couldn't make out anybody through the spider-webbed windows.

Fumbling to release my seat-belt I jumped when I heard a knock on my window. I turned and saw a man standing there, blood running down his face in rivers, his left arm tucked tightly against his torso. I unlocked my door and he stepped back to give me room to get out of my pick-up.

"Are you okay?" A deep, pleasant voice asked.

"I'm good, just a bit rattled," I replied, taking in the sight before me. The source of the bleeding was obviously on the man's left side of his head. A few cuts, presumably from the impact with the window. Again, I noticed the way he held his arm against his torso and I realized he was putting most of his weight on his right leg.

"You were driving the Impala," I stated. The man grimaced and refrained from nodding. "Where's your friend?"

"My brother is checking on the driver of the other car," he stated, pointing out with his right hand where his brother was. I didn't pay attention though, because he was swaying precariously, firing up my doctor senses on full alert. Head wound, impact on window, probably a concussion.

"Have you been unconscious?" I inquired, trying to get a good look at his eyes. He had been looking at his car, but in reaction to my question focused on me. At least he tried. Then he shrugged his right shoulder.

"I guess so," he mumbled. "I'll live."

A snort escaped my lips. "I'm sure you will. But you should get yourself checked out. There's an ER over in the next town." He snorted briefly.

" 's what my brother said."

"You should listen to him. I'm a doctor. Just looking at you for ten seconds I can tell you'll need stitches, some x-rays on your left arm and leg and I'm fairly certain you got your skull knocked pretty hard." He looked up at me with a half grin, then turned when we heard footsteps in the snow approaching.

"Hey Sam," he greeted. "That dude alright?"

"Um, not actually," Sam replied, his voice somewhat tight. "He's dead, Dean."

"Dead?" Both Dean and I repeated. "Are you sure?" I added.

"Yeah," Sam breathed, rubbing his hands together briefly to warm them. "Dean, how's your head?"

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean replied. Sam scoffed.

"Sure you are. I can see you swaying there like a ship in a hurricane." Sam grabbed his brother by his good arm and guided him aside. I took this as my cue to give them some space and made my way through the snow to check for myself whether Sam was right. The brothers were talking softly and I couldn't make out most of what they were saying, but I thought I heard something like _sulfur_ and _doctor_ in the mix.

Turned out that Sam was right, the driver of the third car involved was gone. But somehow it wasn't right. I could see nothing that would validate a cause of death. Sure there was a mark on the man's head, probably from a knock to the head in the accident. It was a cut, actually, but there was no bleeding. And the man was a lot cooler to the touch than he should be, despite the freezing conditions. Maybe his death had caused the accident, like he had a stroke or a heart-attack, but that would have to get determined by the coroner.

I turned back towards the road and the brothers. My eyes got caught on the severely dented Impala driver's side where the front of my pick-up impacted. How was that man, Dean, even standing?

"Dean?"

Sam's voice sounded alarmed and got my attention back on the brothers. Sam had grabbed his brother by his leather jacket, holding him upright. Dean's head was hanging to the side, eyes sluggishly blinking and he sagged against my truck.

"Come on, Dean, stay awake!"

My bet was on Dean running out of adrenalin and his body was going into preservation mode. I quickly made my way over to them, helping Sam handling his brother's seemingly boneless body. Sam was trying to be mindful of Dean's obvious injuries to his arm and leg. I opened the back door of my truck because I didn't think Dean needed to lay in the cold snow.

Once we got the man settled, I grabbed his wrist to check his pulse. I felt Sam's stare at me and felt compelled to explain.

"It's okay, I'm a doctor."

"Yes, I know," Sam replied. "Dean told me." I nodded.

"I'm afraid he's got a decent concussion. I saw what his head did to the window." I peeled back Dean's eyelids to find what I expected. "You should try calling for an ambulance. Though I'm not sure they can get out in this weather."

"They can't," Sam stated. "I called before I went to check on the other driver."

"Hm," I huffed while running my hands over Dean's head, trying to detect the point of impact. He had a pretty big lump spreading all over the left side of his skull. "Well, I hate to say it, but your brother needs a hospital."

"I'm afraid you're right," Sam sighed. "I'm pretty sure he broke his arm, too. But the Impala is not exactly in driving shape."

"Yes, but my truck is," I replied. "Why don't you hop in and we'll get your brother some help." I looked at Sam. "And let the police know about the body in that car."

"Um, yeah... about that," Sam started.

"Yes, it's very strange in several regards. But, that's for the cops to figure out."

Sam sighed again. I got the feeling there was something going on that I was missing. Finally Sam nodded.

"Okay, let's go." He squeezed in next to his brother, lifting his head and upper torso to rest on his legs. I opened my mouth to suggest he should sit in front, but something told me not to.

I slid in the driver's seat and pulled away the remains of my airbag. Then I turned the key in the ignition but it took two tries to start my pick-up. About twenty minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of my hospital, that I'd only left not even an hour before.

"Wait up here," I told Sam. "I'll get them to bring a gurney for your..." I trailed off. Sam had picked up his brother and simply carried him past me into the ER as if he weighed nothing. Shaking off my stupor I called out to my colleagues and they got busy, taking Dean off Sam's hands.

Sam took a step to follow his brother into the cubicle, but I held him back. "Let them work. Your brother will be fine, he's as hard as they come." Sam looked at me squarely and then nodded. We took a seat in the waiting area and Ginny, one of our nurses, handed Sam a clipboard with the form for the insurance information.

I watched Sam fill it in as if he'd done it way too many times. Ginny collected the form when Sam was done and the pacing started. For some reason I had the feeling it wasn't only worry for his brother.

Some thirty minutes later Sam was trying to stare holes into the cubicle and I got up. "I'll see what I can find out about Dean," I explained.

"Wait, I appreciate your help, I mean, we appreciate it, but you really don't have to sit here and wait with me. I'll be fine. And I know Dean will be fine, too." Sam got up, too. "You did enough to help already."

"It's no trouble, Sam. I can't go anywhere in these conditions anyway. I'll be right back."

The news I relayed to Sam was that his brother had indeed a fractured ulna. His leg luckily was only heavily bruised. I guess the heavy frame of the Impala protected him. On top of all that was the official confirmation of the concussion and some six stitches in Dean's scalp. He would be fine.

Just after I had filled Sam in on the news, a police officer came to take our statements of the accident. Sam gave his first and then went to see his brother. After finishing with the officers I decided to take a look outside, wondering if it'd be possible to try and get myself home. The snow hadn't let up though, so I made my way to the doctor's sleeping quarters. I would have to try again in the morning.

***sn***

I woke up to a hand shaking my shoulder gently. By the looks of it I'd slept a good few hours. Sitting up I stifled a yawn and tried to stretch inconspicuously.

"Sleep well?" My colleague Sonya asked with a smile. I chuckled.

"Looks like. What's new?"

"Well, the police are out there waiting for you," Sonya replied with a frown.

"For me? Why?" I was puzzled. "I already talked to them yesterday."

"Yes, but there seems to be some questions in regard to the brothers you brought in last night," Sonya supplied.

"Then why don't they ask them?" It didn't make sense. I only met them yesterday. I knew nothing about them.

"I'm sure they would, but Dean Cartwright and his brother have gone AWOL."

"Gone?" Now I was wide awake.

"Yes. When Jenny wanted to prep Dean Cartwright for his scheduled CAT scan, the room was deserted."

"Are you sure?" I frowned, wondering where they could have gone and more importantly how they had left. Dean must be hurting a lot and even Sam was bound to have some bruises. Not to mention they did not have a car handy. Their Impala was all crunched up half way between here and the next town. I said as much to Sonya but she just shrugged.

"They're gone either way." With that she left.

I got up and walked over to the small basin to wash my face and then headed out to see whether I could help the police.

***sn***

"... and I'm telling you I have no idea how they got their car!" I was ready to lose my cool. Apparently, the brothers had not only left the hospital against medical advise, they had also somehow managed to get to their car which was in no drivable condition and... drove off. Or towed it. Or... I don't know. Thing was, the officer told me when they checked out the accident site after the plow had cleared the road, there was only the green Dodge of the dead guy including his body.

How they managed to pull off that stunt was beyond me. They must have had help. But what puzzled me even more was the why. Surely they didn't think they would be held responsible for the man's death.

"... you hear me?" The officer's voice pulled me out of my musings.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "Did you want to know something?"

"Do you have anything on their car that might help us? Color, make, a license plate number?"

"I... it was a black Impala, 60s model, I believe. But I'm afraid I got no license plate."

"That's unfortunate," the officer sighed. "But we're having all garages checked in the next towns over. From your description they haven't gone very far."

"Do you have anything on the body?" I tried my luck.

"He's dead," the officer deadpanned. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. "By the prelims he was dead way before the accident."

"That... that's impossible," I all but stuttered. "He was driving that car, he rammed the Impala to cause the whole crash."

"Yeah, well... I can only say the way he was stinking he was long dead already. Which is funny, 'cause frozen bodies don't stink, nor do they drive. But... that's not my problem. My problem is finding that Impala, preferably with the owners. By the way, this is not them by any chance?" He was holding up two mugshots of the brothers. I froze, eyes wide, and just managed to nod. The officer whistled appreciatively. "Hendriksen will be pleased."

I nodded again, wondering how much weirder this situation could get while not having a clue what was happening or who Hendriksen was. Those boys didn't seem like the bad kind to me. Yet it looked more and more likely that everything was connected to Sam and Dean. I just couldn't see that connection. And suddenly I was glad I couldn't give the authorities a license plate number at all. I may have been pretty unobservant from the police's point of view, but my people skills told me those two men were more use out on the road than behind some kind of bars. It was now obvious they were on the run, but whatever they were running from, I hoped they got away.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: The vibe hit me and I thought I'd sort of add the "solution" to the "riddle". To the anonymous GUEST review... it's season 2-3... no Cas yet. But all the more Bobby.**

 **A big thank you to all the reviewers! You made me smile like Dean when he gets pie!**

 *****sn*****

 **Bobby POV**

It had been a fairly average winter so far but the last few days the temperatures had dropped way beneath the freezing point and yesterday morning it had started to snow throughout the day without letting up. Sam and Dean had been staying a few days after a hunt in the vicinity but the brothers, Dean especially, got hit with cabin fever quickly. Then again it wasn't safe for the boys to stay too long in one spot with Henriksen on their trail. Even if it was way out of view at my salvage yard. In the afternoon the boys had headed out in that black beauty of theirs. Okay, it was Dean's but it might as well have been theirs because it was their home.

After watching the pristine 67 Impala disappear in the white landscape I returned to my kitchen table and poured the remainder of the coffee I'd made earlier into my mug. My thoughts stayed with the boys who felt so much like my own. They really had their work cut out for them with that FBI agent on their asses all the while trying to find a way to get Dean out of that batshit stupid deal he'd made. And of course those idjits didn't stop hunting, because being on the run and a quest at the same time just wasn't enough, was it?

Eyeing the bottle of whiskey on my desk in the adjacent room, I shrugged and walked over to pour a generous shot into what was left of the coffee. The warm fluid burned a hot trail down my throat, a feeling I welcomed. The snow kept falling thicker and I started wondering if it had been a good idea for the boys to set out. I knew Dean had those chains in the trunk but would he think of putting them on? Then again I knew he was a brilliant driver. If someone could weather those circumstances, it was Dean Winchester. The remainder of the day passed uneventful when not even my Hunter Helpline phone went off.

As usual I checked the salt lines at the windows before I turned in but I hadn't even slept for long when my cell blasted "Highway To Hell" in my ear, causing me to bolt upright in my bed. That scrawny little bastard. Only Dean had had the chance to fiddle with my phone. Before the hell music could permanently damage my eardrums I quickly pressed the button and accepted the call.

"This better be important," I growled instead of a greeting. A glance at my clock on the nightstand told me it was just after midnight.

"Bobby, it's Sam."

I knew right away something was wrong. And something wrong was never good. Balls!

"What happened?"

"Short version? Demon crashed Dean's Baby, we're currently in the hospital next town. Dean's got a nice cast on his arm and some stitches in his head. And probably a lot of rattling going on in his skull. The Impala needs a tow, preferably before the cops clear the road in the morning. And we need to split this joint 'cause it's just a matter of time till Henriksen comes sniffing out the ER." Sam sounded casual, clinical, but I knew the boy. I could hear he was weary, hurting and genuinely worried. Dean must not be doing too well.

"Geez Sam, if ya need a wizard, summon Harry Potter. Have you seen the way it looks outside?"

"I..., I know it's a lot to ask, but believe me, we need to be gone by dawn. And the Impala as well. Don't you still have that plow truck?"

"Of course I do, yer idjit," I replied. "Where did ya park the black car?"

"Half way in between towns," Sam sounded relieved. "Don't get a fright. We got spun out and hit a pick-up."

"Balls," I muttered. "You alright then? Or did yer just happen to forget about yer own bruises when you saw your brother?"

"I'm fine, Bobby," I could literally see Sam grin. "Just a few bumps. Impact was on the driver's side. Dean tried to break the window with his head." I winced.

"That don't sound too good," I mumbled. "Yer head connect with anything?"

"No, Bobby. Told you I'm fine. But Dean was knocked out for a moment and then he passed out again later."

"Crap," I swore. With all the knocks that boy had taken to his head so far it was a miracle he hadn't suffered some permanent damage.

"That's why I couldn't refuse the doc in the pick-up to take us to his ER. And then there was the matter of the broken arm still."

"Listen, Sam... I will get back to yer once Dean's Baby is safely in my yard. Be alert!"

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam replied and then disconnected the call.

***sn***

About forty-five minutes later I reached the crash site. It was fairly bright due to the full moon and the snow having let up some ten minutes ago. The clouds had parted and the silvery light from above reflected on the snow. The parts of white that were caught in the beams of my plow's headlights glittered like a blanket of diamond dust. But I didn't have time to enjoy it. There was a task at hand. I was relieved to find the Impala on the snow covered road instead of in a ditch. At least that would make it somewhat easier. I grabbed my flashlight and exited the plow.

In the beam of light the black car stood out like a sore thumb in the snow. When I circled the car however, it looked like a wounded beast with the drivers' side smashed up badly. And here Dean had only recently rebuilt her. I lifted the beam up to the driver's door and saw the spider-webbed glass where Dean's head must have connected. It looked bad enough.

Walking over to the front of Dean's Baby I attached the carbine's with the towing rope. The other end I connected with the back of the plow, leaving just about two yards of space in between. I double-checked the knots and climbed back in the truck. It took me about an hour to reach the salvage yard once more and by that time, the snow fall had picked up again. I smiled, because I knew if it'd keep on snowing like that it would wipe out the tracks of my Impala rescue mission.

Once I'd placed both the Impala and the plow in an out of sight corner of the yard I climbed in my old rusty car, but not before I'd grabbed my chains and fitted the tires. Then I called Sam to let him know I'd be there in an hour, telling him where to meet me. The drive was going well but I purposefully chose a different route to the hospital. Didn't want to risk a chance meeting with whoever was at the accident site.

It was after 4 am when I finally pulled into the smaller parking lot at the north side of the hospital. I flashed my brights twice, signaling Sam it was me. Sure enough I saw two figures stepping into the light of one of the three lanterns that illuminated the lot. I stopped my car right in front of the boys and cut the engine.

"Yer two idjits doing alright?" I greeted. Sam smirked briefly, but then his tight expression was back in place.

"Gonna need a hand, Bobby. If you could open that door for us?" I squinted to scrutinize the boys in the dim light and saw that Dean's eyes might be open but he looked like death warmed over. That and the fact he hadn't said a word told me all I needed to know. Swiftly I did as asked and soon Sam and I had settled Dean on the back seat.

"You going to be okay there, Dean?" Sam asked. Dean was spread out on the back seat as much as possible. He nodded once before squeezing his eyes shut. "Alright, Bobby, get us out of here." Another hour later we turned into the yard. It was still snowing and I had the feeling we'd have to hole up a while. At least until Dean had recovered from his concussion and the roads were half way safe for traveling. Sam was out of the car almost before I even stopped and immediately pulled open the back door. Dean sat up and swatted his brother's hands away when Sam wanted to help him out.

"Get your girly hands off me, dude," he growled and I must admit I chuckled in relief. If Dean was ready to quarrel with Sam he must be feeling better.

"Okay, okay," Sam raised both hands in surrender. "Just trying to help here."

Dean glowered at his younger brother and then pulled himself upright with his good hand on the car frame. I had come to stand next to Sam and had to refrain from putting out a hand to steady Dean, when the stubborn boy swayed on his feet.

"Dean...;" Sam started but Dean cut him off.

"I'm good, princess. Don't get your panties in a knot."

"Son, accepting some help in your condition ain't gonna taint yer badass reputation," I grunted good-naturedly. A moment later I regretted my remark as it made Dean look up at me sharply. He opened his mouth to retort something clever, but instead his eyes grew wide and his face blanched and he turned to the side to bring up whatever he'd been eating before the crash.

Instantly Sam grabbed his brother supportively, steadying Dean with one arm while rubbing his neck with the other hand. A moment later the heaving stopped and Dean spat in the snow in an attempt to get the foul taste out of his mouth. Without any further comment, Sam pulled Dean's good arm around his shoulder and supported his brother the short distance to my house. I heard Dean complaining halfheartedly but Sam threatened to leave him in the snow if he didn't shut up.

A few minutes later Dean was settled on my couch, grudgingly sipping on some tea Sam insisted he'd drink to settle his stomach. In the light of my house I finally had the chance to get a better look at the boys. Sam looked tired but was seemingly unharmed. Dean was still pale and judging from the grim set of his jaw he was not a happy camper. I pulled open a drawer that contained some pain relievers and shoved two pills into Dean's hand. He stared at them for a moment.

"Can I skip the tea if I take these?"

"No," Sam replied before I'd had a chance to open my mouth. "You got your eggs scrambled in style and I don't think puking up bile is your idea of fun." Dean scowled at that, but he knew Sam was right. Still, the lack of more resistance told me he was really feeling bad. He finished his tea in slow sips and gingerly accepted his brother's help to get him to bed. I was right on the boys heels. Pulling an all-nighter sure wasn't on my favorites list anymore and I was sure a good night's - or rather day's - sleep would do all a hell of a lot of good. Knowing Dean, the next days would prove challenging and I for one planned to be rested for the battle to come.


End file.
